Allison Veron
by stonedangel
Summary: A modern retelling of Jane Eyre, with some changes.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

There is no point in taking a walk today for the wind was frosty and it was 5 below. Any outdoor activity is out of the question, and I was glad. I was not looking forward to coming home frost bitten and tired and enduring another reproaching for whatever fault I may have committed or for my physical inferiority to Jake, Jane, and Jaclyn Pearson. As of now, Mrs. Pearson was reclining on the couch with her three children crowded around her watching a movie while forbidding me from joining the group. She told me that whenever I could look more natural and act more refined, she might consider treating me like one of her own. Otherwise, she is inclined to exclude me from whatever her family is involved in.

My name is Allison Veron. I was born March 3rd 1988. I'm in the 5th grade. My parents died in a car accident when I was small and I don't remember them for the most part. I lived all my ten years of life with my aunt and cousins. I suppose my uncle Pearson was the one who brought me here to be part of the family. He's been dead for 8 years now, but I suppose if he's alive, he'd treat me very nicely. Sometimes, I don't know if I miss him or miss being treated kindly by anyone. I don't know what it's like to be accepted so I'm not sure if I even_ miss_ that if not the man himself. I probably _want a taste of it_ if just for a day, but I'm not likely to get it while I'm here and I'm probably most likely to remain here till I'm 18. Therefore, I try to bear with it for the most part.

While _Gone With the Wind_ was on in the living room, I retreated to the guest room to chat with my friends from school on AIM. Most of them already knew what goes on in my life. Well, the few that I have anyway. Luckily, they didn't like me any less because of it. We try to hang out when Mrs. Pearson isn't looking which isn't very often, but what we lack in personal friendships, we make up for online or during recess. However, if she is not completely satisfied with things I do, I get punished, meaning chores all day and being forced to skip dinner. I knew that moment that I was risking my flesh and blood to use their internet. I also knew I've been caught before but I'm always tempted to commit the same faults just to have a life.

Just then, right outside the door, I heard Jake shout, "Have you seen Allison today? She must have ran off again. Bad animal!"

"I think she's right here, to be sure Jake," replied Jane. "Boy is she really gonna get it." I froze as I heard them talk and then quickly signed off as they entered the room, but not quickly enough.

Jake was four years older than I was, a schoolboy of fourteen, making him the oldest child in the family. For as long as I remember, he had an antipathy for me. He would punish me not once or twice a day, but constantly, mostly for his amusement. Whenever he's near, I'd freeze in apprehension and expecting the worst every second. His cruel acts goes unpunished because Mrs. Pearson refused to believe me, even though it had been right under her nose for the past 10 years. Mostly, I end up taking the sharp edges of her anger. Today turned out to be no exception.

"We take our eyes off of you for one second and you start screwing with our stuff," Jake said menacingly. "I never said you had any business with it." With that, he took his textbook and struck me over the head with it. I screamed as I fell backwards and I hit my head on the glass door of the cabinet where they kept their TV. Glass shards were everywhere, and my scalp burned as blood trickled down my neck. "Now look what you did!" he yelled. "That's private property and it cost $2000. You don't deserve to live with us and when I inherit the house, you're out for good." He charged at me and I pushed him back the opposite direction in the last desperate attempt to defend myself.

Mrs. Pearson heard the commotion and arrived with Bessie, the maid. "Look what you did to my cabinet, you fiend," she seethed. "You're lucky I don't keep you from continuing to live here."

"Mother," said Jake. "I came in to check on her and she struck me. That's how the cabinet broke." My aunt turned around and slapped me before I could get a word out in protest. She then told Bessie, who was tight lipped and picking up glass shards, to lock me upstairs in the guest bedroom. Two hands were gripping my arm that instant as I was dragged to my imprisonment.

I resisted all the way. "No!" I screamed. "Not the guest bedroom! I would do anything. Just please don't lock me up there. I cannot endure it. I would just die." Bessie ignored my plea as we were reaching our destination. I wasn't looking forward to the guest bedroom that no one had used in 8 years. Uncle Pearson died in this very room and we were all reluctant to relive that memory, well, they were anyway. I was reluctant to confront his ghost which I knew must still exist in tht room, the thought of which terrified me beyond words.

As Bessie shoved me through the door, she sat me down hard in a chair. Almost immediately, I was back on my feet as I rushed back towards the door. "Sit still!" she yelled as she sat me back down again. "Or you'll be tied down." I defeatedly complied this time, wanting no more trouble than I already have. "You will stay here until after breakfast. If I hear a peep out of you, your sentance will be extended for another 24 hours." She then left and locked the door, leaving me alone to confront my fears. It was just my luck that there was a thunder storm outside which worsened my situation tremendously, but I saw no ghost. Instead, I saw the image I conjured in my head of Uncle Pearson on the very bed he died in.

I sat at the edge of bed trying to figure out what could possibly be wrong with me that I couldn't fit into my aunt's family. I ceased even trying long ago, but I never stopped longing for a sense of belonging. Jane, who is spiteful and selfish, is respected. Jaclyn, who put on airs like she owned the place is endlessly indulged. And don't get me started on Jake. He had no respect for anyone in this house, ignored curfew, stole money from his sisters, got suspended from school alot, and once took his mother's car for a joyride with his girlfriend, and he was still her favorite child. I'm constantly trying to stay on my aunt's good side by being obedient and am constantly cautious on everything I said and did and still, no one could stand me.

On top of that, I was top student in my class and had been on the honor roll since 1st grade, but none of that mattered now. All that mattered was that I was my mother's daughter. It had something to do with how much my aunt hated her sister in law for some reason and in turn, hated me, but I don't know anything else. I plan to find out someday ... wait, does that even matter? Suddenly, the image of Uncle Pearson reappeared and thunder sounded. I screamed to be let out but no one seemed to hear me. All of the sudden, I got short of breath as blackness slowly enveloped me. The last thing I remember is me hitting my head on the bed post as I fell.


	2. Chapter 2

Just before school the next day, I joined Abby and Helen, same people I chatted with online last night, on the playground, still smarting from the cruelty I was treated with last night. This isn't the first time I wished I had parents and maybe siblings, but the pang that comes with it never faded. I made it through the entire night in the guest bedroom completely terrified, but by morning, it wasn't so bad. I didn't see the ghost of last night and the storm had subsided. Yet, it seemed an interminable length of time before Mrs. Pearson finally let me out.

As usual, I took my breakfast in the kitchen with Bessie after my aunt and cousin finished breakfast and Bessie and I finished washing the dishes. Mrs. Pearson told me long ago that I'm here on charity and must earn my keep. "The streets of New York is not kind to little girls," she said sharply, and I knew I must be cautious to stay on her good side. One wrong step and I would be history. Yet, I dared commit no fault and they always seemed to find my shortcomings. They always seemed to blame me for everything bad that happened even when I had nothing to do with it.

I walked the 6 blocks to school while John, Jane, and Jaclyn received bus fares. John was a freshman, Jane was in 7th grade, and Jaclyn was in 6th grade, which meant she and I won't be together for another year. I dreaded the thought of passing her them in the hallway in middle school next year, seeing their mocking faces, and facing daily humiliation. Little did I know what was to happen in the years to come.

"You signed off so quick, Allison," Helen admonished. "What happened?"

I didn't know quite what to say. Even though they knew more tan anyone else what I was put through every day, they didn't know the half of it. Right then and there, I decided to spill my guts. I told them about John knocking me against the glass door of the cabinet, the glass breaking, and me getting blamed for it, after which I was locked in the guest bedroom where my uncle died 8 years ago.

"Nobody ever used it until now. All that for chatting with you," I finished with a flash of passion swelling inside me, breaking off a petal of daisy I just plucked from the ground. "I still have another 8 years and I'll be gone for good."

"And go where?" replied Abby.

Before I could answer, the bell rang and we all headed inside. _Anywhere_, I thought. _As long as I could sever all ties with my folks._ We then moved on to more cheerful topics, like clothes and hairstyle before we separated and I took a seat in Ms. Dalton's homeroom where we basically screwed around and not paying attention to the morning announcement.

Sarah Dalton was only a little older than John and was just in her first year of teaching. She was stunningly beautiful like Blanche Ingram from _Jane Eyre_ but also like Ms. Ingram, had a tendency to look down on others, which in this case was her students, especially me. Just when I felt I couldn't feel any smaller, she does something even worse to me. She even called me stupid and allowed everyone to laugh when I answered a question wrong during world history.

While pondering over math problems 3rd period, I saw Ms. Dalton start to collect homework, which I didn't have at the moment, earning me my first demerit in my ten years.

Just before recess, Ms. Dalton kept me inside while the other kids headed for the playground. She berated me for not turning in last night's homework for 3 subjects, which was a rarity on my part. My heart sank as I thought of how the incident last night could possibly allow me to get everything done. I was lucky to get the other 4 subjects finished. But that would seem like dog-ate-my-homework type of excuse, so I retorted, "So I missed a few assignments? So does everyone. Besides, I got the highest GPA in my grade. I deserve a little break." It was all I could do to refrain from telling her to step off.

"You can have your _break_ from recess until you make everything up. You're lucky I'm giving you this opportunity." I pretended to scowl, but I was actually glad of it. At least no one would pick on me for being the shrimp of my class. No one would criticize me sense of fashion, or lack thereof. Best of all, I could enjoy one day of no one teasing me of having no family. I thought maybe I could deliberately leave my homework undone and stay in at recess every day, but I decided against it. There are 3 people who departed this world who would stand by me if they were alive, my parents and uncle. Whenever I made a decision, I always asked myself if they would approve of it.

XxXxXxXxXx

That afternoon, as I got home, Mrs. Pearson summoned me to the master bedroom. As I timidly closed the door behind me, she signaled me to come with her index finger. I stood before her face to face and saw her eyes full of venom, as if ready to attack at the slightest provocation. In a deathly calm voice, she said, "Your uncle Pearson's dying wish was for me to treat you as my own. However, you have deliberately made it impossible for me to love you. You ate us out of hearth and home for the past ten years. Now it's time to send you away."

I stood there dumbfounded, unable to think of a single reply. I had been longing to get away from here, but now that the prospect of it is here, I wasn't so sure I want to leave. Where would I go? Aunt Pearson answered that for me as she continued, "I will arrange for social service to come get you and you shall be in foster care till you're 18."

Right on the spot, I exploded. "My uncle wanted you to treat me as your own and you broke your promise to him!" I shouted. "He and my parents could see from heaven how cruel you treat me. They could see how sadistic enough you are to lock me in the guest bedroom when I done nothing wrong."

Seething, as if unable to tell whether I was a child or a fiend, she barked, "That's enough, Allison! You shall go to your room till dinnertime and if I hear a single word out of you, you will stay in that bedroom for another week. Now go." I stood there with my feet glued to the ground, still smarting from the rapid changes ahead of me. I knew foster care wouldn't be any better than where I am now. Indeed, I heard lots of horror stories about what hapened to the kids from TV and newspaper.

"Go!" Mrs. Pearson yelled. I left as fast as my feet would carry me and slammed the door to my room, which consisted of nothing more than a bed and a dresser. There wasn't even any electricity meaning I must complete all my homework before darkness descended upon my barren room. I got started on that rght away, as there was nothing else to do. Maybe foster care would be better than here after all.

XxXxXxXxXx

As Jaclyn came into the house, bursting with news about her day at school, Mrs. Pearson, after willingly talking with her on that subject, asked her if she and her siblings would like to take the subway to Central Park with her. She would be delighted, but explained that John would be at the mall with his girlfriend and another couple on a double date and Jane would be at the movies with friends. Therefore, only she get to go. I also heard Mrs. Pearson tell Bessie to keep an eye on me lest I be out of my room. Well, she had just wasted her breath because I had no intention of doing anything of the sort anyhow.

Meanwhile, as I waited till dinner, it was all I could do not to think about food and by 5 pm, I was famished. Sure I had only leftovers, but they were only from the day before and was still better than the lunch they served at the school cafeteria. Just when I was about to faint from hunger, Bessie called from downstairs to announce it's dinnertime. I walked casually out of my room and downstairs even though I wanted to barge through the doors and run, because I didn't want to appear too eager and I was punished for that once.

As I approached the kitchen (the dining room was reserved for my aunt and cousins), Bessie told me to wash up, which I did promptly. As we sat down to spare ribs, I gathered up the courage to ask Bessie when I am to leave. "I don't know," she replied. "Why would you want to leave? You live in a big house with all its concenience and with a kind aunt and cousins. Shame on you for being ungrateful!"

I thought it over and despondency settled over me like a black cloud. Did she really think it was convenient that I live without electricity or heat and that I couldn't eat until they're finished and all the dishes are washed? Was my aunt and cousins really kind to shun me constantly. Surely she could see that I'm invisible when I'm not punished. No one even knew I exist. How could she just turn a blind eye on the extent of their mistreatment of me? I noticed that she is capable of being nice to me when they're not around.

Sure enough, she continued, "You must be glad to be leving your Bessie so soon." Indeed I'm not. I didn't realize how much I liked her till I was leaving. We're not the closest to each other, my relationship with her was the closest I ever came to being on good terms with people, except, perhaps for Abigail and Helen. I could at least bear with Bessie, who probably didn't hate me at all. She was just torn between pleasing the Pearsons and ... loving me.

In earnest, I replied, "I'm not glad to leave you. In fact, I'm rather sorry." We finished eating and after we finished the dishes, Bessie and I embraced for the first ... and the last time. Within my tortured soul, I realized, with a growing sense of foreboding, that things will change forever, possibly for the worse.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: The Gina in this story in named after Georgiana in Jane Eyre. I changed the name because I didn't like Georgiana.

As Mrs. Pearson returned from her trip to Central Park, she announced that she was able to contact social service and that they should be available by a week before Christmas Eve. Fear was barely concealed through the thin layer of my brave facade, for it was already the end of November. Yet, as I saw that my aunt didn't notice, I said in one of my dark moods, "I'm glad to be leaving you for good. I never want to see you again because you're a cruel, selfish bitch. That is exactly what I'll tell people when they ask how you treat me. I hope to God that you rot in hell because that's what you deserve."

Mrs. Pearson did not fly into a rage about how selfish and ungrateful I am, nor did she lunge towards me, intending to knock out my lights as I expected. Instead, she remained deathly calm with ice water running through her veins. "Are you finished?" she asked coldly. I stood there surprised, wondering if perhaps she wasn't provoked because she was glad to be rid of me or because I showed the rebel side of me that I always managed to conceal. Nevertheless, I managed to reply.

"You bet your life I am." I replied insolently before I retreated to my room without waiting for her to answer.

Christmas preparation started the next day, but as usual, I was deliberately excluded from it, even though I was required to help with chores. All over again, Bessie was chiding me about being lazy when I'm tired, sullen when I'm quiet, impudent when I answer, and insolent when I don't. Each days that passed brought me a greater sense of foreboding, desolation, and loneliness. I wasn't so wild about having my entire future determined by a handful of adults who was supposed to be taking care of me. More and more often, I can't help thinking how much better it would be if Mr. Pearson and my parents was all alive.

The day John headed to the Winter Formal at his high school and Jane went to the 8th grade semiformal (some 8th grade guy asked her out), Mrs. Pearson, who had been cold shouldering me since I had insulted her, summoned me to the parlor. With her was a pretty brunette lady who should be a model, but was, instead, who I guessed to be from social service. "So this is the Allison you told me about?" she asked.

"Yes she is," was the reply. "You must be careful about placing her. She is naughty and deceitful and must be with a family who could be strict with her."

"That's bull!" I exploded before anyone else could speak. "No other family could possibly treat me more like dirt than yours!"

"My point exactly," said Mrs. Pearson smugly. The lady, who introduced herself as Miss Temple proceeded to ask me how they mistreated me. I didn't hesitate to recite the gist of my life the last ten years and especially emphasized on the guest bedroom and cousin John wantonly striking me without any reproval.

When Miss Temple appeared to believe me, Mrs. Pearson interjected, "The child's full of imaginations." She didn't seem to buy it though and declared that I must definitely be removed from the Pearson residence. And so goes my last day here.

XxXxXxXxXx

My first home was upstate at Syracuse with the Parker family who had several other foster children as well as 5 of their own. The foster kids were treated as 2nd class citizens. For instance, we were to use separate plates and silverware from Ms. Parker's biological family. We did most of the chores while "the family" gets to luxuriate in whatever they happen to be up to. They were easily critical of us and won't hesitate to use thier fist when they feel like it. However, after we got everything done, we had complete freedom to do whatever. We were left to fend for ourselves.

On my first day in the small, cramped bedroom, an older girl with fiery red hair introduced herself to me and talked a mile a minute. "I'm Carrie," she said as soon as I was in the room, and then a blue streak more. Within the first 5 minutes, I found out she was 12 and about this being the 3rd place she's been to ever since they removed her from her home in Albany when she was 5 after they saw signs of abuse. I, however, was only half listening because I was too preoccupied with my own sorrow and wasn't receptive to other people's problems.

Yet, by the next morning, before we were to be roused to make anyone breakfast, we had a heart to heart because I had no one else. "You said there are several of you," I spoke barely above whisper. "Do you know who else lived here?" There turned out to be 5 of us. Besides Carrie and me, there was Eliza, 11; Gina, 9; and Adele, 13 who was here for similiar reasons. They were sharing a small bedroom right now.

"Remember, Allison," Carrie concluded, eyes watering. "We're all what they call the f-child. Everybody shuns us so we got to stick together. It's us against the whole world."

"It can't be that bad," I replied, although I knew it was the worst thing in the world.

"It's horrible. They show us the door when we turn 18 and then we're on our own," she cried. "I'm scared. I got only 6 more years." And then it hit me like flying daggers, threatening to tear me apart. I_ got only 8 more years._ I thought that something must be terribly wrong with me, that I'm irrepairably full of shortcomings. I had yet to figure out in years to come that bad things happen to good people through no fault of their own. It doesn't sound fair, but truth is it isn't, but it happens all the time. And I felt lost, like I don't have control over anything and my entire future is wrapped around everyone else's little finger. But at least I had 1 person to shoulder the burden with me. It used to be just me against the whole world. Now it's _us. _

When the alarm rang at 5 am, the 5 of us was up quck as lightening, including me, tired as I was. "The Family" merely went back to sleep. _They_ had at least another hour and a half, according to Carrie. Nobody spoke as we went through a series of chores, including a week's worth of laundry, vacuuming, cleaning the bathroom and elsewhere, etc. Even while I was subjected to torture in my aunt's family, I hadn'd been forced into this much work since we had Bessie, and by the time we were to make breakfast for 7 people, I was exceedingly exhausted.

As soon as we were finished, we gathered back in out bedrooms. Sleeping was out of the question because there was still 5 minuted before "The Family" was to rise. Instead, I used the 5 minuted to get acquainted. Adele was reading something to pass the time and I asked to see it. It was _The Catcher in the Rye._ Nothing special or interesting, but pretty dull. "How long have you been here?" I asked.

"I been here for almost a year," said Adele. "They're supposed to move me soon but I don't know where I'll end up or if it will be as bad as this."

"How many f-homes have you been through?" I lent a sympathetic ear.

"Twelve," was the reply as if that part of her life was her tender point. "Nobody could tolerate me for long. This is the longest I stayed in any place." I could tell her eyes kept traveling back to her book. However, I kept pressing to know more about her.

"How did you end up in the system in the first place?" I grew more and more curious as I went along.

I could see her face grow red as she replied testily, "My mother used to bring men home in the middle of the night and they hit me when she's passed out on the couch with an empty bottle of vodka next to her."

"How old were you when you were removed?"

She threw her hands in the air in exasperation. "You ask too many questions. I got to return to my book." I decided this time to respect that.

As I got on the bus to the nearby elementary school, I was enveloped with a sudden wave of sorrow, especially when I sit right in front of one of the Parker's biological child who immediately started telling everyone I was the f-child. Indeed, my shabby clothes and my solemn demeanor was enough to give me away, but the merciless teasing started after Diana Parker, also 10, started spreading lies. Little did I know that the worst was yet to come as I was smoldering with rage in midst of people's mocking faces and derogatory comments. Even the bus driver gave me a demeaning look as I got on. All I wanted at that time was to crawl into a hole and hide forever.

I was glad when we reached the front of the school as I headed towards (reading off schedule) Mrs. Klein's homeroom, but my gladness was transient because Diana was in that room too. I braced myself as I prepared to spend the rest of the year in hell, perhaps even longer. My mind wandered a million miles away as the morning announcement droned on and everyone else talked amongst themselves. Before I knew it though, first period started as Mrs. Klein told us to turn to page 356 in our social studies textbook. I half-heartedly turned as I wondered, for the first time despite my previous sufferings, if me being born was a mistake after all.


	4. Chapter 4

A few weeks from that day, as I was returning home from school, I opened the door and stepped into the dark, dank, living room through the front door. It was 7 at night and I was at band, orchestra, and track practice along with other stuffs that I joined a coupla days before. I had neglected my chores so my fear of being punished was especially prominent. Just as I was about to sneak upstairs to my room, a stern voice called, "Hold it right there!" I was petrified and froze for a moment before turning slowly around to see that it was Mrs. Parker, who was every bit as cruel to me as Mrs. Pearson.

"What were you doing out late?" she demanded. "Didn't I tell you to be straight home after school until all your chores are completed? The dishes had been unwashed and the floor's not vacuumed."

Irate at being ordered around, I said fiercely, "I never saw you, your husband, or your children do anything around here!" She then walked over and slapped me.

"I will not have you back talk me, girl!" she yelled. "You are a disrespectful child. That's probably why you got sent here in the first place. For that, you forfeit your chance of having breakfast, lunch, or dinner tomorrow!" I felt a sudden pang of hunger upon hearing these words. I had neither lunch nor dinner that day as I wasn't given lunch money. In fact, ever since Gina broke one of the dishes she was supposed to wash, the Parkers took liberty of denying us adequete meals. Ever since then, all I, or anyone else for that matter, could think about was food.

Dejected, I joined Carrie, who had dark circles under her eyes, upstairs in our bedroom. I noticed that she wasn't her usual, talkative self. Adele, with dried tear stains on her thin face, was with her. "What happened?" I asked.

It turned out that she was out partying late last night and woke up in another the hostess' bed. She had only intended to have some punch and the last thing she remembered was taking a few sips before blackness engulfed her. "If Mrs. Parker found out," she said as calmly as she could, "I would be sent packing."

At first, I didn't know what to think of this. I didn't know whether I should be jealous that she finally had a social life and I didn't or just feel sorry for her that she never really had much of a life at all. I decided, in the end, to do neither. All I did was assure her that no one will know about this. Her secret was safe with me. From then on, she and I became friends.

As the months went by, Adele and I grew closer. We talked most nights, shared secrets that I couldn't with anyone else, and gave each other encouragements when everything seemed to be falling apart. She ended up sharing the room with Carrie and I after a few weeks. For instance, during a fairly rainy April, in the honors class I got transferred into a coupla months before, my soda exploded in the classroom I managed to sneak it into.

"Allison," chided Mrs. Fowler for that day. "I knew when I first saw you that you would be trouble. Go to the principal's office." Waves of humiliation rushed over me and the interminable amount of time that seemed to have passed till I reached the classroom door didn't help. The principal suspended me that day and it was then I went straight to Adele, who was home with a cold.

"You have no idea how awful it was," I said after I sobbed out my story. "And that's an understatement. Yesterday, she made it clear how 'stupid' Liz was when she couldn't answer who the first woman executed in America was. Still, I bet everyone hates me now."

"They don't hate you. In fact, I think they felt sorry for you."

"Why would they? I made an idiot of myself in front of everyone."

"My classmate used to have her," she replied. "And from what I heard, Fowler doesn't like anyone. She was mean, demanding, and quick to put others down. Nobody likes her very much either."

"I wonder why," I scoffed, with a note of sarcasm in my voice.

"You know," she went on. "If she had treated you as an especial favorite, I think everyone would abhor you."

I kept that in mind as my friends that I haven't been able to make in Mrs. Klein's room and I passed notes around making fun of "Fouler" for the rest of the year. Despite dire situations at home, things started lifting up towards graduation. Even the kids picked on me before gradually stopped.

During the weekend before grad, Gina, who cold shouldered me despite going to the same school and sharing the same house, shared the room with Carrie and I for the night.

"It really sucks that you have to leave, Allison," said Gina. "I almost wished that you could be held back a year and then we'd be in the same class. Next year, I'll be the only one left. But all the same, I'm happy for you."

A moment of silence lingered as I had been surprised. "I thought you didn't care to associate with me!" I exclaimed.

"I always liked you and I really wanted to hang out sometimes. It's just my friends would kill me if they saw me with the 'loser.'" A half smile passed over her delicate features as she continued, "I wish you the best." She then turned off the light, leaving the stunned me to process the most unlikely words she said.

During the ceremony, Gina confided in me that she'll be placed in another f-home in the distant part of the city and we promised to email often. Then there's something else. Adele, during her own graduation, collasped unconscious on the grass. Or so I heard from Diana Parker who happened to be there and ran here to tell us. I was overcome with worry as I received my diploma. Will she be okay?

At the hospital, I told the receptionist that I must see Adele. She told me the room number and motioned for me to wait in the waiting room after I told her I'm the "sister."

"No!" I insisted. "I must see her now. Don't make me go crazy for the next several minutes!" I ran down the long corridor towards her room, ignoring the protests of the receptionist. Once I found her, I sighed with relief that she was alive and conscious, but she seemed a little lethargic with IV and all sorts of tubes running through her arm. Still, she smiled and motioned me over.

"What happened?" I asked breathlessly. "I was so worried about you I couldn't think straight."

"I been waiting for the right time to tell you this. I had leukemia since I was 5. It was on remission since 5 years ago but..."

By then, I already knew how she would've finished her sentence and I felt like a knife went through my heart. "Tell me I'm dreaming..." I said sotto voce before I could stop myself. "Tell me it isn't true!" I practically shouted. "You aren't going to die!"

"Allison," she said wearily. "I know this is hard to go through, but we all have to die."

"But why you?" I whispered. "Why so soon?" Then, the tears I fought valiantly to keep back released in a floodgate. "We all need you."

"To tell you the truth, I won't get very far in this world if I lived. There's just not much I could do." She sighed, clearly exhausted from the short conversation.

"Please don't talk like that!" I pleaded frantically. "When are you going home?" By then, I already knew that she couldn't possibly hold on much longer, but I couldn't bring myself to settle for the worst.

A dreamy look passed over her face. "Soon," she said with a faraway expression in her eyes. "To my last home, my long home... Come under the covers. It's really freezing in the hospital room." All I wanted right then was to spend what little time Adele had left time with her, so I crawled under the covers.

As night approached, I fell into a deep sleep and Adele fell into an eternal sleep, closing her eyes for the last time.

I woke to a hushed voice and for a dazed moment, struggled to know where I was. Then I realized I was in Adele's hospital bed and it was a nurse waking me. I sat bolt upright and in the same hushed voice, asked, "She's gone now, isn't she?"

"I'm afraid so, Allison."

I received a good news the same day, not that it would counter-balance the tragedy that just happened. Now that Mrs. Parker is no longer "burdened" with Adele and is presented an opportunity to send another packing, I was the one to leave. I was headed to another f-home in Buffalo, not far off from Niagara Falls. I was glad of it, for dreadful to me was having to stand the desolation of the Parkers household right after the death of a dear friend.

As I crammed my clothes into my suitcase, I bid good bye to the other f-kids who wished me well and looked forward to the potential good days ahead.


End file.
